Blame it on the Bossa Nova

At least Timmy had Lassie when he kept slipping down the well. Scrappy isn't interested in making that kind of effort.

This is the story of my slippery slide into a depressive state complicated by my brain function crapping out. You think I’m kidding, don’t you?

*****

Zumba is fun, right? Enthusiastic testimonials abound from people…women of all ages and weight classes…abilities about how “fantastic,” “hip,” and “groovy” Zumba class is (remember, I said “all ages”). This is direct quote from some people who should know all about Zumba; it’s from a site calledZumba.com:“Are you ready to party yourself into shape? That’s exactly what the Zumba® program is all about. It’s an exhilarating, effective, easy-to-follow, Latin-inspired, calorie-burning dance fitness-party™ that’s moving millions of people toward joy and health.” (I put it in red to keep the Latin flavor of the quote.)

Exhilarating!

Am I ready to get in shape? YES!

Is Zumba worth a try? YES! It’s exhilarating (more so than bird-watching; less so than cliff-diving–perfect), effective (my butt could use a face lift…little toning), easy-to-follow (great, since I’d do better as a “private dancer” than a member of a chorus line), it’s like a dance party (I love to dance), and millions of people are enjoying it (so that must include people like me).

My Wellness Center has several Zumba classes, even one in the pool (which I thought best not to try as a beginner). “Zumba Gold” is offered twice a week for really old and sick…shimmy and skipping challenged people…women. It’s billed as “Zumba Lite.” I decided to give it try. As unfortune would have it, the Zumba Gold class is scheduled right after the one hour Agony Pilates class I take. What possessed me to stay for the class after an hour of gut-wrenching “core work”? I’m currently consulting an Exorcist…a therapist to find out (you can guess what kind: mental health, physical health, sexual health Exorcist… therapist).

Maybe that was my excuse for a heap of bad decisions 30 years ago, but not now.

Here’s what happened as best as I can recall:

Zumba Class is held in the same living-room sized room as the Pilates class with the same instructor. It’s important to note that one long wall is lined with mirrors. Some of the same women who grunted and groaned…exercised their core with grace and discipline with me stayed for Zumba Gold. They are all older and heavier than I am. As the minutes to the class counted down, more middle-aged and older heavy-set women came in, some decked out with be-bangled hip scarves. These women were Hard Core Golden Girl Zumbies. I made sure everyone around me, including Super-Fit 30ish Instructor, knew that I was new to Zumba.

When these 3 came in, I knew I was in trouble.

“Oh, it’s so fun and easy! Just relax and have fun. We repeat the steps so much, you’ll be a pro in no time.” Several of them said this nearly word-for-word. Was this their standard pitch to all old new-comers?

The room was as crowded as a Weight Watcher’s Meeting after the holidays. I stood behind Super-Fit Instructor and tried to clear enough space for some elbow room. With bright fluorescent lights and the loud Latin music, the class began. Before I knew it, I was part of a choppy sea of multi-colored mammals looking as if we too close to shore: kicking, turning around, and flapping about.

I watched Super-Fit Instructor’s feet and her upper body with live-or-die attention. Just when I had the moves down, the song ended; then a new learning curve threw me for a loop. I was also watching the others (selfish safety concerns). I could see them all around me and reflected back at me in the wall of mirrors that amplified everything. I saw me in the mirror, too, which was demoralizing. I’m a way better dancer in my mind’s eye than in my eye’s eye. All this focusing and noticing were taxing my HSP brain.

Mirrors are not my friends; closed eyes are by BFs.

After 45 minutes into the class, my brain put up a “Closed For Business” sign. I couldn’t follow the most dance steps. When I backed away to the door, a woman asked me if I was alright. I just looked at her; I couldn’t answer. After the amount of energy it takes to deliver a closing argument before the Supreme Court, I managed to squeak out, “Um. Whoo. Tired.” She said, “Oh, stay, there’s only 15 minutes left and it’s mostly cooling down.”

I wanted to leave, but I just nodded an “okay.” Arguing with her took brain power–something I didn’t have. I stayed in the back and shuffled around for the next 15 minutes, staying exposed to and absorbing all that movement, those lights, that noise. Some party…

Lights appear to be on, but the screen is frozen.

After the class, I stayed pinned to the wall. Super-Fit-Kind-Instructor asked me how the class was, telling me I did great. I bet she says that to all the spasmodics in her class. At first, I could only talk in one-word sentences. Imagine that. Me. One. Word. Sentences. That’s when I started hyperventilating. And crying. The snappy ad for Zumba didn’t mention anything about crying and panic attacks.

There's no crying in Zumba either...

Super-Fit-Kind-Instructor hugged me and apologized. I apologized for making her feel badly then pulled myself together enough to get out and to my car where I had a regulation melt-down.

*****

I haven’t been quite the same since then (2 weeks ago). When your “central processing unit” crashes, recovery isn’t always just a phone call away. And I certainly can’t replace my 54-year-old computing system with the newest technology.

Is there a "Reset Brain" knob or dial?

So after pretending that everything is fine (Plan A) failed, I need a new plan. I’ll call that Plan 2. Things have to change around here. What things? This post is long enough. You’ll have to stay tuned to find out. (Isn’t that just like me?)

Plan 2 is ready to launch. And it all started with Zumba...Exhilarating, huh?

Now girl friend – what have we here??? Is it the dancin’ or the dancin’???
Come on now … You really didn’t expect to dance like a 30 – something chick. Imagine how I feel at my Zumba class??? YES … I do take Zumba – and – not Zumba lite. i was a dance teacher and feel like I can hardly keep up. Muscles slow down and tear down with age. You should have walked out of the class like a rooster or something female-like that. Everyone was overweight and old …. HELLO – that’s a big plus.~~~~ : – )
Give it up – all the teachers say you did great. I did. No one would return otherwise. It does take time to get it and you can get better but if it bums you out – say “Bye – Bye”.
I make it easy on myself the next day after Zumba I have a Tai Chi Dance class. It’s meditative. The chinese music is mesmerizing. It is much better and super duper slow. Now, this class is hard. Try doing something very, very slowly. A challenge indeed …
Cheer Up
izzy

You are far braver and much more fit–even with your brain on overload. I’m one of those who wanted to be an ice skate just like Dorothy Hammell or Peggy Fleming. Weak ankles and knees made me an Olympian medal winner in falling sometimes gracefully.

Dancing wasn’t any better and after 4 major back surgeries still isn’t so Zumba isn’t something I’ll brave. But bravo for you! 🙂

Kourtney HeintzFeb 23, 2012 @ 11:43:53

And my self esteem plummets and I want the wooden dance floor the split open and swallow me whole. And it never does. 🙂

I can’t help you with your overactive mouth, but I can tell you that Zumba is a far cry from free-style dancing around. I can do that with no problem. Following an instructor in a room packed with overly enthusiastic but underly coordinated women isn’t as fun as they make it look!

Congrats on escaping the Stepford Zumba class – seems everyone who tries it gets hooked. But I’m sorry about your meltdown. Exercise is supposed to release all sorts of endorphins but I guess it’s too much to expect it can totally fix us, right?

Last night, sitting on the couch watching TV as we always do in the evenings, an ad for Zumba, comes on the screen. Just like you described it. Might have been the same ad. Well my wife says, “We should do that.” It seems to be all the rage on Navajo reservation here. They even did a spot on the evening news about it. You see, I made the mistake a day or so ago of saying something about my wife putting on some weight, mostly in her legs, that might be affecting her circulation causing the cold feet she constantly complains about. Yeah, Doctor F’n Idiot. She ends almost every sentence now with “since I’m putting weight on my butt and my legs.”

Anyway, I invented Zumba 40 years ago. I would put a record on the stereo, yeah I said that, and jump around the living room for hours. Dancing away. Same thing isn’t it? Probably why I have a body shape that resembles a pear with two skewers stuck in it.

Oh, I felt so bad for you, Lorna…you just took on too much. You had already done Pilates for heaven’s sake….just went overboard and your poor sensitive brain got overloaded. So much for all the Zumba fun! Florescent lights alone can make me feel panicky, and over-stimulation of even having fun can send me into a panic…that’s why we’re called HSPs.

Kourtney HeintzFeb 21, 2012 @ 18:53:58

I am really uncoordinated so I feel you on this one. 🙂

I used to despise the mirrors in my belly dancing class. The minute I started watching myself everything locked up and I couldn’t get anything to move properly.

I feel like I was right there with you, excellent writing. I wouldn’t go near a Zumba class or gym for that matter since my work is my exercise and I walk many miles per week too. Thank you for solidifying the ‘steer clear of Zumba’ feeling I have, but so sorry you had such a bad experience. Anytime a meltdown is the result of an action, it’s a message to change direction…looking forward to the next post!

I think that falling apart after your Zumba class is entirely reasonable. I feel exactly the same way after spin class. Perhaps it’s the realization that we lived through the class. Or maybe because we’ve metabolized so much sugar from your bloodstream that your brain in starved and refuses to work. Either way, you’ve got an excuse.

PhilFeb 21, 2012 @ 13:18:48

Nice write up of your experiences at Zumba. You certianly know how to describe this event in a way that lightens it up with humor. It reminds me of Scotty on Star Trek telling Captian Kirk, ….Captian she can’t take it no more….she’s breaking apart.

Silence can be just what the doctor ordered. You know I'm a doctor, right? Cancel reply

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